


Out Of Time

by sarcastissa



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, BAMF Lavernius Tucker, M/M, Mentions of Junior, Suicidal Thoughts, Survivor Guilt, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-02-27 01:14:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2673353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcastissa/pseuds/sarcastissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where Lavernius Tucker seals the entry of a cave to save his friends, Agent Washington will stop at nothing to free him from Locus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The battle was a lost cause. This, Washington had concluded the minute Tucker was shot down. He had gotten his people into yet another sticky situation where they didn’t belong.

He had gotten Tucker shot.

He saw Caboose, Grif, and Simmons finding an escape with Felix and the New Republic soldiers into a cave. It’d be a bottleneck, but Wash knew that if he could get everyone in, they might just make it. But, of fucking course, Tucker was down. Sarge was down. Donut was down. Lopez was down. Freckles was losing power.

They were out of time. Wash had always figured that, one day, these people’s luck had to run out.

Grif and Caboose were shouting at him to get in the cave, but Simmons stopped them.

“Don’t be idiots! Tucker is still out there,” Simmons pointed out before turning to yell at a newly conscious Donut. Donut quickly focused himself and grabbed Sarge’s limp body.  
He carried his commanding officer over to the cave and the Red Team was together again.

Caboose screamed at Washington to hurry.

Tucker groaned and cautiously stood up.

“Tucker, oh thank god! We’re getting out of here!” Simmons yelled over the radio, but Wash could see Tucker surveying the battlefield.

He knew what Tucker was going to do. He would’ve already done it himself if Tucker had been in the cave.

“Grif, grab Wash and get out of here,” Tucker demanding, his voice showing no fear.

“Tucker, goddamnit! Don’t!” Wash cried. He could feel the emotions welling up in his chest as Tucker’s emotionless helmet stared back at him.

_You’re leaving me again?_ Washington could remember the words falling from the cyan soldier’s mouth. He remembered how Tucker always feared Wash leaving him.

Neither of them ever considered what would happen if Tucker left, but Washington really didn’t like the idea.

Orange arms wrapped around his middle and the Reds and Caboose were all yelling things as Grif dragged Washington over to the rest of the group. Grif knew what was happening. Tucker had once described their relationship as “cool bros” but the entire crew knew that their friendship was strong.

Strong enough for Grif to understand that, with what Tucker was about to do, he needed to know that Wash would be safe.

“I’ve got him. Give ‘em hell, Vern.”

“Tucker--” Wash yelled once again as he heard Tucker’s watery chuckle.

“Freckles, shake!”

“No!”

\----

Washington woke up in a place that he didn’t recognize. He was thrust into a war that he didn’t believe in. He was put in charge of soldiers that actually listened to him.

Not for the first time, Agent David Washington had no idea what he was doing.

But he did know that Locus had Tucker.

And he’d be damned if he didn’t get him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Harper for beta'ing! Everybody should go check out her tumblr http://nearlywixes.tumblr.com/


	2. Awake and Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tucker wakes up with the enemy

Tucker coughed as he faded in and out of consciousness. He heard the gruffness of Locus’ voice telling him how unfortunate it was. He could decipher the sound of engines and he could feel blinding pain as feminine hands took his helmet off of him. He could feel the cold floor and shackles on his unarmored--when did that happen?--wrists and ankles.

When his body finally decided to actually wake up, he was in, basically, a giant cement box. He was shackled and bolted to the ground and across him, he could barely make out a large steel door with a place at the bottom to shove a food tray under and a place at the top where someone could look in on him. There was one lightbulb, but it was frustratingly out of reach.

He sighed and sat up, cracking his back and neck as he went. His back was against the wall parallel to the door as he began to let his mind wander.

The place was practically paradise compared to the cell he was thrown in once upon a time when he and Junior were traveling diplomats. He thought back to the good times with his son, but was interrupted by the flashbacks of sending Junior and Donut both away for help during the last days with CT.

He blinked away those thoughts and shook his head. He decided to go over what he knew.

1\. He was not dead or injured.  
2\. He was captured by Locus and the Feds.  
3\. The others had gotten out, so they were relatively safe.  
4\. Washington was relatively safe.  
5\. Wash was safe.

He sighed and closed his eyes. He leaned his head back until it connected with the coolness of the cement. The cold would probably be a bitch later, but for now it helped Tucker think. He was sure that the crew would go to Earth and inform some kind of council what the hell was happening on Chorus. Well, he was 73% positive.

He was also scared that Washington would lead them to do something stupid like get involved with the war to save him.

He groaned as his thoughts went back to Washington. Lord knew how much of a crush he had on the blonde. And they had finally been on good terms whenever Felix and the shitstorm arrived.

Tucker chuckled, ‘Felix and the Shitstorm’. Kinda sounds like a grunge rock band featuring a guy who sings about how mad he is at the world. He shook his head. He probably shouldn’t be picturing some stranger in a boy band whenever there were more pressing matters at hand.

Like, oh yeah, he was being held captive by someone who had yet to show their face.

As if on cue, Tucker heard the tumbling of locks giving way on the other side of the door. He called up his captivity training from his diplomat days and put on his game face.

“Private Lavernius Tucker,” a gruff voice ‘greeted’ him. Tucker smirked and called upon Captain Flower’s spirit to help him make the interrogator uncomfortable.

“Present! And might I say, sir, pleased as punch that you have time for me!”  
There was a sound resembling that of the Meta’s growls before the light was turned on and Tucker was face to helmet with Locus.

“Tell me about Project Freelancer,” Locus demanded.

Tucker scoffed. “You’re going to have to ask politely.”

“Private, I don’t have to be nice to you. You’re a prisoner.”

“You act like that’s all I can be, and I just can’t surround myself with people that negative. I am so sorry Mr. Locus, sir!” Tucker rattled off, but was cut off by a swift punch to his face for his backtalk. He shook his head before he turned back to Locus and pinned him with an openly defiant look. “That it? Come on, man. I’ve sparred with an A.I. controlled robot and became the savior of an alien race and you _think that I can’t take a goddamn punch_?”

Locus growled again and Tucker fought to keep the rebellious look on his face and the smirk off.

“Project Freelancer. Information. Now.”

Tucker pursed his lips and squinted at a spot passed Locus’ form in mock consideration. “Yeah, no. Can’t do that.”

Locus punched him once again, this time his stomach. He watched as Tucker coughed.

“Tell me about your team. Tell me about Agent Washington.”

“Well, see, I totally would, but I...well, actually, I don’t want to. And Wash is way scarier than you.” Tucker suffered another punch to the stomach.

“Battle tactics.”

“Play it by ear and hope that our luck hasn’t run out,” Tucker smirked. Locus grimaced and punched Tucker cheek once again. “Come on, man, not the money maker!”

“Tell me about the A.I.s.”

“Well, that I can tell you, Mr. Punchy. Church was a dick and Tex was half shark. Church was allergic to strawberries--” Another punch. “--Tex got jealous whenever we got another girl on the team. Church never let me use the goddamn sniper rifle even though he couldn’t hit anything--” A kick to the stomach. Tucker coughed, the taste of pennies filling his mouth and dark red peppering onto the cell floor, but pressed on. “Church would wake me up every morning at 10:13 because I would hide the good cereal from him, and while we were in the desert, he tricked the aliens there into thinking that he was God. How much time do you have because normally I’d have to pay a hundred bucks an hour for a session like this.”

Locus’ fist raised, but a voice on his helmet stopped him. He murmured something and turned on his heel to leave the cell, but not without looking over his shoulder at Tucker. “This isn’t over,” He growled before leaving and slamming the door shut.

Tucker sighed and rolled his head back. What he had said to Locus wasn’t false, but goddamn that armor really packed a punch.

Tucker chuckled at his own pun.

He smiled to himself as he realized that he was probably right in his assumption that he was the only member of the colorful space marines there. Everyone knew that Tucker didn’t know much about PFL, that even Simmons knew more. And, if Locus was serious, he’d put Caboose and Tucker together so that he could torture Caboose to get Tucker to talk.

Locus also couldn’t kill him. On orders or that he’s worth more alive than dead, but either way Tucker was staying around for a while.

Whether that was a good or a bad thing a completely different debate entirely that Tucker didn’t want think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Harper for beta'ing! Everybody should go check out her tumblr http://nearlywixes.tumblr.com/


	3. Temptation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peak in at Washington and help from an anonymous source called Grey.

Washington was training his squad. Hard. He pushed them to do what he knew they could, but also to stand up to him and tell him to fuck off. They never did. And Palomo, the ultimate kissass, just seemed to annoy him.  
At first he couldn’t put his finger on why he didn’t like his lieutenant, but the answer came to him through Caboose accidentally calling Palomo Tucker one day.

His skin was lighter, eyes a more human color, hair a regulation shave and not in messy dreads, but with his face and build… Palomo looked like Tucker.

Washington couldn’t afford to get attached to another one.

Kimball chewed her bottom lip as she watched Washington with worry. She knew what it was like, to be estranged from your love or whatever this Tucker character was to him. But they were only missing one person.

“Washington,” She called, interrupting the drills. “A word?” She ignored the sighs of relief coming from the blonde’s squad and walked away, not bothering to look to see if Washington was following him.

“Is there a problem?” Wash asked.

“I don’t know, is there?” She turned the question back around at him, and pinned him with a hard stare through her helmet. “You’re only missing one man, Agent. You and I both know that those kind of casualties are usually pipe dreams in war. You’re busting your ass helping out with this battle--and don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it. More than you know. But, this isn’t your battle to fight. Shouldn’t you be focusing on a way to get off of this planet?”

“I understand casualties, Kimball,” Wash’s voice was cold and hard. The voice he’d used whenever he protected Tucker against Carolina. “But I also understand being abandoned by your team--your friends. And I don’t want Tucker to have to escape by himself; I’ve looked at the odds. The team is better with Tucker. Trust me.”

Kimball nodded and watched Wash march back to his squad. She turned and, unsurprisingly, found Felix beside her.

“Watch him,” She nodded in Washington’s direction. “Make sure he doesn’t break down. It’s been a month and he hasn’t eased up. I’m beginning to get worried.”

“Maybe the Grey squad should go on a couple of missions. I’ll supervise?”

“Sounds good,” She smiled up at him. “Thank you, Felix. I have no idea what I’d do without you.”

\----

Tucker coughed up blood as Locus’ boot collided with his ribs yet again, but plowed on. “And did I tell you about the time that Lopez and Sheila teamed up to make a robot army and take over the world?”

Locus roared and dragged Tucker by his dreads as close to on his feet as the shackles would allow and lowered himself to glare straight into Tucker’s eyes.

“I can’t tell if your loyalty is admirable or regrettable, but either way it’s becoming very annoying.” Locus’ voice was cold and hard, almost reminding Tucker of Washington’s serious tone. “Tell me what I want to know! Tell me about Project Freelancer!”

Tucker spat in his face and was thrown across the room, yanked back by the chains, and fell to the floor in a painful heap of injured limbs. He brought himself up on his forearms and knees just before Locus kicked him back to the floor.

“Project Freelancer!” Locus demanded.

“Okay, listen closely, buddy,” Tucker’s voice was low and promised danger as he glowered up at Locus. “I was a motherfucking diplomat with my son. The training programs for keeping my mouth shut were way worse than this, and the couple of times that I was captured, they were bigger than you, scarier than you, and better than you and they got nothing. You’re not gonna wear me down, motherfucker. You’re a joke. You’re a fucking coward hiding behind a mask of being a soldier and following orders, but you’re really just a fucking lapdog--”

Locus cut him off his a hard punch, and then another, and another, and another until Tucker was only aware of the pain from each blow.

The next time Tucker awoke, he was alone in his cell, in the fetal position, and his food had been delivered. He groaned as he sat up and scootched the tray closer to himself. Besides the regulation bread, cheese, and water, there was a small bottle with a bright pink substance in it and a note attached to it.

_Drink this and you’ll feel better. Or die. Either way you’d be better off. Sorry I can’t do more, but I’ll help you out as much as I can! <3 Grey! P.S. You might wanna...I dunno, eat this note or something so that no one knows! They think that the elixir will make you talk._

Tucker was careful not to show any emotion as he ate the note with his bread and cheese. He studied the bottle as thoughts flew through his head.

He sighed heavily. Could he risk it? He thought about his team--his friends.

First there was Sarge. They weren’t close but they had an understanding. Tucker warned Sarge about O’Malley and Sarge went through a landmine for Tucker. They’d lay down their lives for each other.

Then there was Simmons. They got along easily enough; Tucker often teased the other man, but both soldiers knew how skilled the other was. They would defend each other to the grave. They almost had. They were friends. Tucker took care of Simmons on his bad days and Simmons tried to make people stay away from Tucker on his bad days.

Then there was Doc. Doc who would make a birthday cake for Junior every fucking year. Doc who held Tucker whenever Junior was kidnapped. Doc who seemed to be the only one in Blood Gulch that could keep up Tucker’s moods and knew when to comfort and when to walk away.

Donut, who had lived in the desert with him and Junior. Donut whose bright smile would wake him up at four a.m. Donut who learned Sangheili just to better communicate with Junior whenever Tucker wasn’t around. Donut who braved CT and the desert just to look for help. Donut who looked up to Tucker like Tucker was the answer to their problems and not the cause. Their friendship was built to last ages and forged in a desert fire.

Grif, his cool bro. Tucker smirked as he remembered Grif’s final words to him. _Give ‘em hell, Vern._

Caboose, the stupid, idiotic little brother that Tucker never had. He loved Caboose with all of his heart, even if he didn’t show it that much. They had become particularly close after Church was captured in the Epsilon unit, and then again after Church left with Carolina. Caboose who trusted him to get him out of any trouble. Caboose who looked at Tucker like he knew the answer to every stupid question in the universe. Caboose who would cling to Tucker like a vine to a building whenever either one of them had nightmares.

And then there was Washington. Tucker swallowed thickly and sighed as he thought about Blue Team’s leader.

Wash had lost a lot. But Tucker knew how toxic hope could be. Tucker had made his sacrifices, he decided as he brought the bottle up to eye level and uncorked it. He couldn’t force Washington to free him and become a broken burden to the man.

He downed the entire bottle in one go and slammed it onto the tray.  
He was dizzy. His eyelids were heavy. His skin was tingly.

As his eyes closed and he slid down to the floor, he distantly wondered if this was what it felt like to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Harper for beta'ing! Everybody should go check out her tumblr http://nearlywixes.tumblr.com/


	4. Lunacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wolf in the hen house.

“Agent Washington,” Wash looked up as Felix approached him with a bottle of liquor. “You, my friend, look like you could use a drink.”

The blonde blinked owlishly as he took in the mercenary before sighing and wordlessly letting Felix into his small room. They sat on the floor beside the bed as Felix uncorked the bottle and took a swig. He passed the bottle to Wash, who studied it at eye level before taking a swig himself.

“You’re working pretty hard lately,” Felix murmured as he accepted the bottle back.

“I have to. Tucker’s not gonna save himself,” Wash frowned before chucking humorlessly. “Well, I don’t know. He might actually do just that. I have no clue what he’s capable of.”

“Sounds like you two were close.”

“I wish. We’d only just started being civil. I bet he fucking hates me,” Wash shook his head and gulped down more whiskey.

“I’m sure that’s not true.” Felix paused and studied Wash’s profile. “What was he like?”

“Don’t you fucking do that,” Wash growled in a low, dangerous tone. Felix’s eyes widened.

“I didn’t do anything, Wash?”

“Don’t you fucking talk about him in the past tense. Tucker is alive. I know that he’s alive. He has to be alive.”

The was a beat of silence as Felix sighed and massaged his forehead. “I’m sorry, I meant...will you tell me what he’s like?”

Washington gnawed on his bottom lips a bit before taking another swig and turned to look at Felix. “He’s a fucking asshole.”

Felix let out a surprised chuckle.

“I mean it. Lazy, too. He’ll never do something to get it done and move on to do what he wants to do. He’ll just sit there and complain about it and make stupid sexual jokes until you threaten him. Then he’ll complain while he does it! God, he is just so frustrating. But then he’ll be funny or serious and...I never really got to know him.”

“But you wanted to?”

“Well, yeah. He was beginning to be my friend.”

“Sounds like he was beginning to be a bit more than your friend,” Felix pointed out with a small smirk.

Washington blushed and looked away. “Like I said, I’d bet that he hates me.”

Eventually, they were out of alcohol, so Felix decided to leave. He smirked to himself as he played back the helmet camera and opened up a line of communication with Locus.

“I think we just found the perfect place on Tucker to apply pressure,” Felix grinned. “I’ll be there in an hour. Let me run the show for a day.”

\----

Tucker groaned as he woke up.

“Well, I guess I’m not dead. Yay.” His muttered thought fell flat, even to his own ears. He sat up and began to eat his food--breakfast, lunch, dinner, who the fuck knew anymore?

He didn’t bother to look up when Locus stormed into the cell. He bit back his sarcastic comment about eating in peace when he remembered his promise of silence.

“Ah, you promised me a challenge,” Tucker’s eyes went wide as he looked up at the newcomer with anger seeping into every pore.

“Felix,” He hissed.

“Hey, babe. Long time, no see. Can’t say the same about the rest of your crew, though.” Felix grinned behind his helmet. The very prospect of torturing Tucker’s mind left him giddy. This was like a dream come true. “Now, I have to give you a chance to answer my questions before we start, so! Tell me everything you know about Project Freelancer!”

Tucker snorted and pinned Felix with an unimpressed look.

Felix seemed very delighted with it.

“That’s just swellegant.” His voice changed from the happy, crazy, bouncy tune to a dark, insane, murderous tone that made shivers crawl up and down Tucker’s back. “Now we get to do this my way.”

Tucker furrowed his eyebrows but stopped short when Felix took off his helmet. He fiddled around with it a bit before it started to playback a recorded conversation. 

Tucker tensed as he heard Washington’s voice, Washington’s vehemence that he was alive, Washington’s recount of the golden days at Crash Site Bravo, Washington’s feelings.

“What the fuck is this supposed to mean?” Tucker growled. Felix looked positively delighted.

“It's proving that if you start fucking around with me, I will decapitate your lover. Or, I could go a different way with this,” Felix grinned widely and grabbed Tucker’s face. He lowered himself until their noses touched. “I could make you too ashamed to ever be with your precious if you don’t give me what I want. Although, you are very nice looking. I could just take whatever I want.”

Tucker’s face morphed into anger and disgust, but he couldn’t put Washington in harm’s way. His face fell and he could feel the obnoxious pride rolling off of Felix.

“What the fuck do you want from me?”

“You’re going to tell me everything you know about the Blood Gulch Crew and Project Freelancer on video, which I will then anonymously send to Kimball who will show your team how you’ve betrayed them. And then, I’ll kill you. Or, hey, I could fuck you and then get Wash to kill you. Or, I could make you fuck Wash and then leave him in the way that you and I both know that he fears. Oh, the possibilities are truly endless.”

“You’re a fucking lunatic.”

“Yeah,” Felix grinned. “But I’m also winning.”


	5. A Warning

“Wash!” Palomo ran up to his Captain out of breath. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Kimball needs you and the other Reds and Blues in her office ASAP. She said that she just received a game changer!”

Washington looked vaguely concerned before nodding. “I’ll get Donut and Caboose, you get Sarge, Simmons, and Grif.”

“Felix, Sarge and Donut are already there,” Palomo corrected.

“Well then you go get Simmons and Grif and I’ll get Caboose. For God’s sake, Palomo, its not rocket science!” Washington barked before running over to the center of the base where Caboose was busy taking care of a flower that he and his lieutenant had planted to bring back Church and Tucker. “Caboose, we need to go to Kimball’s office!”

“Okay, Agent Washingtub!” Caboose called back cheerfully and both of them jogged over to the office just as Simmons and Grif got there.

“Either of you two know what’s happening?” Grif asked them as they walked in.

“Palomo just said that is was a game change--” Washington stopped short as he saw a giant projection of a very beaten Tucker tied to a chair on the wall. “Is this a ransom video?”

“Not quite,” Kimball growled. “I think that this video is just meant to fuck with us.” She pressed a button on a small remote and the video started playing.

“State your name and rank,” A gruff voice from behind the camera that Wash identified as Locus commanded Tucker, who rolled his eyes and smirked evilly.

“My name is Lavernius Tucker, and I am a slayer of corporation secrets. Some may call me the greatest soldier of all time, Sarge thinks that I’m just good enough, but I prefer the rank ‘colorful space marine’,” Wash almost laughed in relief at the battered soldier’s introduction. Grif scoffed and grinned as Caboose nodded like it made perfect sense, Simmons and Donut both let out a watery chuckle, but Sarge furrowed his eyebrows and began to watch with rapt attention.

Something above the camera caught Tucker’s attention and he scowled. 

“Just kidding. Did you know that I was a soldier for Halloween my freshman year? Got screwed that night by a rather unfortunate bout of acne.” Sarge blinked hard a couple of times before his entire body tensed and he folded his arms over his chest. He kept one eye on the video and one on Felix.

A hand from nowhere cut across the screen to punch the shit out of Tucker, who sniffed noisily and shook his head. He muttered something like 'you’d think he’d get used to it' before looking back into the camera with an emotion that seemed to be a mix of hatred, anger, apologeticness, compassion, and sorrow. “I’m here to tell Locus everything that I know about Project Freelancer and the Blood Gulch crew without--without any embellishments? Come on!”

Tucker was punched once again but shook it off as if he actually was getting used to it. “Anyway, that was the deal. Unfortunately, I know absolutely nothing about Project Freelancer. Sorry. But hey, I’m alive!”

“What the fuck!?” The gruff voice erupted as Locus came around the camera to kick Tucker’s stomach.

“Shit,” Tucker grumbled as he began to cough up blood. Locus grabbed the man’s face and began trying to stare him down.

Tucker narrowed his eyes at Locus and spit his blood at the man before his mouth molded into a sarcastic grin. “I’m getting a sense of deja vu, my friend.”

“Project Freelancer!” Locus roared as he punched Tucker’s stomach again.  
Tucker coughed and shook his head before a surprisingly serious anger took over his face. “I don’t know anyth--”

The video stopped, and with it, a heavy silence fell on the room.

That is, until Sarge leveled his gun at Felix’s unmasked head.

“Sarge, what the fuck--”

“You’re a traitor, aren’t you?” Sarge asked in an angry gruff voice that Washington didn’t know Tucker had warranted.

Felix looked at him with wide eyes. “Why the fuck would you say that, you senile old man!?"

“‘Did you know that I was a soldier for halloween my freshman year? Got screwed that night.’” Sarge repeated the line. “The first clue was pointing me out. Lord knows that I’d die for that boy, but we aren’t very buddy-buddy. But, he does know that that I was the one that deciphered Simmons’ transmission when he was held captive by Agent Washington and Agent Maine.”

“Tucker was never a soldier for Halloween,” Caboose spoke in a small, serious tone. “He said that he went as a sexy cop or a princess every year so that he could annoy his dad.”

“Exactly,” Sarge looked at Caboose proudly. “But Halloween’s colors are orange and black. Freshmen. This is your first with us, fresh meat.”

“He got screwed,” Grif pointed out before he leveled his gun at Felix’s head as well. “You got anything you feel like admitting?”

Felix laughed. “Kimball, you aren’t seriously believing this, are you?”

“Sarge deciphered a transmission that you didn’t even know was code?” Kimball asked Washington, who looked ready to behead the grey and orange soldier.

“This is the first I’ve heard of the transmission being code, yes. Both Maine and I missed it,” Wash agreed.

Kimball nodded once before leveling her own gun at Felix’s head. “Looks like you missed something, Felix.”

“Where is Tucker!?” Donut practically yelled, tears in his voice. Washington distantly remembered the protectiveness of Donut and Tucker’s friendship. He wondered, not for the first time, what the hell happened in that desert.

“Commander Kimball?” Wash asked in a dangerously calm voice.

“Yes, Agent Washington?”

“Permission to torture the prisoner until we get the answers that we want?”

“Permission granted,” Kimball practically growled.

\----

Tucker was lulled back into consciousness by Locus lifting him by the collar of his ratty, prison-provided t-shirt.

“How the hell did you tell them!?” Locus asked angrily. Tucker grinned.

“You were right there with me, Locus. I didn’t tell them anything.”  
Locus growled and shoved a fist into Tucker’s stomach.

“Tell me!”


	6. Reunion...Kinda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tucker is saved. Yay.

Two weeks.

That was how long it took for Tucker to wake up to explosions. He smiled to himself and groggily picked himself up, mindful of his battered state. He groaned as one of his cuts was pulled with the movement and coughed. He waited a while, exhaustion fogging his mind and making him drift in and out of consciousness.

He barely noticed it when his cell door was opened and a silhouetted Washington stood in front of him until he heard the voice that had been haunting him for what he guessed was months. “Tucker?”

“Wash?” He asked hesitantly. He watched as Wash’s body seemed to sag with relief. Wash turned into the hallway and yelled for some backup before running into the cell and smashing the chains that tethered Tucker to the floor.

“I’m here, Tucker. We’re getting you out.” He used one hand to gently cradle the side of Tucker’s face as Tucker tried to stay awake. “Come on, man, you have to be okay.”

“Bitch please,” Tucker’s raspy voice brought a relieved smile to Wash’s face. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. I had a sweet escape planned already.”

Wash chuckled. “I’m sure. Okay, Tucker, I’m gonna help you up. Can you walk?” Tucker nodded and both of them slowly stood until Tucker was collapsing into Wash’s chest. “Can’t walk, okay, I’ll just carry you.” After Tucker nodded again, Washington ducked down to secure his legs and his shoulders to his chest.

“Well that’s a sight for sore eyes,” Sarge grinned. “Never thought that I’d be happy to see a gosh durned blue!” Tucker groaned in response and Grif laughed loudly.

“Okay, we’re going back to the base now,” Washington ordered as the rebel soldiers began to draw back.

“We got the package?” Simmons asked as he ran over.

“Oh! The package was Tucker!” Caboose yelled, making Tucker smile before the world went black.

\----

Whenever Tucker woke up the next time, he was very attached to IVs, very bandaged, and confronted with more white light than he’d seen since that one time he was the camel in a church Christmas play. He groaned at the intrusion and snapped his eyes closed once again. There was an almost comforting weight on his hand, though, that seemed to require his immediate attention.

He took a deep breath and squeezed his hand around the weight, almost grinning when he felt someone’s eyes on his face.

“Tucker?” He actually did grin at Washington’s hopeful tone.

“I am so glad that that wasn’t another dream,” he croaked and squinted his eyes up at the unarmored blond, who smiled widely at him.

“Me too. Had to make sure you kept training.”

Tucker groaned and flipped him off, wincing as the action pulled at some stitches, making Wash frown at him. “How bad is it?” Tucker asked.

“Three broken ribs, minor cuts and bruises covering most of your body, 83 stitches over your entire body, staples in the back of her head, blood loss, exhaustion, malnourishment, dehydration. It looks like your thumbs were broken at one point and never properly healed so they had to be rebroken and set. Defensive wounds over most of your body.” Washington paused. “Evidence of torture over a period of about four months.”

Tucker groaned and began to sit up, making Wash look at him like he was crazy.

“Lay the fuck back down, asshole!” Tucker rolled his eyes.

“There any water here?” Washington jumped up and poured him a glass, putting a small silly straw into it and gave the cup to him. Tucker gave him a grateful look and sipped on the water.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Wash nodded.

“I’m glad you came back for me. My escape plan didn’t exactly go the way I wanted it to the first time,” Tucker grimaced and Washington understood the broken thumbs.

“But you tried,” Wash gave him a shaky smile as the reality of the situation seemed to settle like a heavy fog in the room. They stared at each other, taking in one another for the first time in months. “Quick thinking, what you did in the canyon.”

Tucker chuckled and shook his head. “You guys weren’t getting away, you would’ve done the same thing.”

“Yeah, I actually thought about it. And that’s why I’m not screaming at you for being a reckless and self-sacrificing asshole,” Wash sounded tired. Tucker sighed and nodded.

“I’m sorry,” Tucker closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the pillows.

“I thought that you were dead,” Tucker peeked over at the standing soldier who was running his hand over his face.

“To be fair, Locus tried to tell me that you guys were dead before Felix used you against me,” Tucker deadpanned. He understood Wash’s anger--he’d be angry, too--but he did just also go through--four months?--of torture. He didn’t exactly get the shiny end of this stick.

“Felix used us against you?” This seemed to grab Wash’s attention.

Tucker shook his head, eyes closed once again. “Nah, he used _you_ against me. Played back an audio recording that proved that you kinda trusted him and that he could get close to you. That’s why I didn’t fight them as much during the video. Figured that I could protect you guys long enough to reveal him.”

“That was not fighting back?”

Tucker chuckled humorlessly, “Shoulda seen ‘em after they realized that I exposed Felix.”

“Tucker--”

“Don’t. It happened.” Tucker shook his head. “I’m barely not breaking down and that’s mainly because I’m still not convinced that this is reality.”

There was a pause in the conversation as Washington stared incredulously at the younger man.

“It’s real,” Wash insisted. Tucker gave him an exasperated look.

“I hope so, too. But you understand, right? How I can’t quite let myself believe it just yet?” Washington sighed and nodded. He gave Tucker a soft smile when he saw the man fighting exhaustion.

“Go to sleep, Tucker. I’ll be here whenever you wake up. I promise,” Washington vowed as he sat back down next to Tucker’s bed and grabbed his bandaged hand. “I won’t leave you.”


	7. Debriefing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, yes, the long awaited ending. Happy Holidays, cockbites. I'm outtie.

Washington was drifting in and out of sleep as he watched Tucker in the hospital bed, afraid that if he took his eyes off of the soldier, he’d vanish. He kept Tucker’s hand in his own, let the calloused yet smooth skin anchor his thoughts from floating too far away. He was pulled from his thoughts whenever the hand clenched around his almost painfully.

He looked up at Tucker’s face with concern, grimacing whenever he saw the look of pain on his sleeping features, his eyebrows furrowed and frown slightly open.

Nightmares.

With everything going on in his brain, Wash hadn’t even considered that Tucker would be having nightmares. Tucker’s hand squeezed his again as he let out a noise that was halfway in between a whimper and a groan. Washington immediately stood and placed a comforting hand on Tucker’s cheek. He squeezed the hand back before moving his freehand from the side of Tucker’s face to his shoulder, where he gently shook the soldier into awareness.

Tucker eyes snapped open as he awoke, breathing hard and a sweat gathering on his brow. He took in Wash’s position--hovering above him--and realized what had happened.

“Wash, god,” He began to sputter, but the blond just shook his head and rested his forehead on Tucker’s.

“Shut up, Tucker,” He muttered as he squeezed their joined hands. “You’re safe now. I’m here.” He felt more than saw as Tucker relaxed against him and returned the squeeze. Washington went to stand and go back to his place in the plastic chair, but stopped short whenever Tucker made a displeased noise.

“Stay?” He asked, voice small and childlike as he looked up at Wash with wide, vulnerable eyes. Emotions seemed the clog the ex-Freelancer’s throat as he nodded. Tucker moved ever in the bed and Washington curled around him, drinking in the man’s comforting presence. Their hands were never released, every once in a while one of them would give a reassuring squeeze.

A squeeze that basically said “I’m alive. I’m still here. I’m mostly okay.”

Throughout the night, both would dose in and out of sleep. Around four in the morning, Tucker was awaken from another nightmare and he seemed to regard Washington’s being there as a surprised.

“You stayed,” He sounding almost confused as pulled their joined hands to his chest. Washington’s heart melted and he gave Tucker a gentle smile.

“You asked me to. Do you want me to leave?” He asked to covered all of his bases. Tucker’s drifting eyes widened and he shook his head vehemently, making Washington chuckle sadly and pull Tucker closer to him. “Then I’ll stay.”

\----

The first thing Tucker noticed whenever he became aware of himself once again was that he wasn’t waking up from a nightmare.

The second thing was that he couldn’t feel with comforting warmth of pressure of Washington’s body anymore.

The third was that he could still hear his voice. But that it was angry. And yelling. (For once, not at him.)

“Is this really necessary, Kimball?”

“I’m sorry, Agent Washington, but I need to know what happened--”

“Four months of torture and captivity for your fucking war. So, obviously, you decide to welcome him into your protection by asking him what happened! You’re fucking insane if you think we’re going to let you--” Tucker opened his eyes to see the heated argument between Wash, Grif, and a newcomer that Tucker supposed was the leader of the rebellion.

“He came in the cell every day and asked what I knew about Project Freelancer and the weaknesses of my team,” Tucker hissed as he sat up in the hospital bed. The three others in the room turned to him in surprise.

“What did you tell them?” Kimball asked, making Wash and Grif glare at her.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Grif told him quietly.

“Yes, I do. I didn’t give them anything. I had training to withhold worse.” Washington looked vaguely concerned and Grif looked curious. “I was a diplomat surrounded by hostiles a lot scarier than Locus on a good day, remember? Whenever I sent you guys a distress signal are you fucking ignored me?” Grif chuckled.

“Oh yeah...we had better things to be doing.” Grif raised a sarcastic eyebrow at Tucker, who scoffed.

“Oh really? And what was that? Having Simmons feed you peanut butter covered Oreos?”

“No. As a matter of fact, we were taking down Project Freelancer.” Grif scrunched up his nose as he stuck his tongue out at Tucker because they were both oh so mature.

“Wait, I don’t remember that,” Wash interrupted the argument.

“You left us in a room and told us not to touch anything, so we touched everything, remember? A distress call came through and we didn’t know it was Tucker until just before they hung up.” The Hawaiian explained with a shrug.

“Sons. of. bitches.” Tucker flipped off Grif.

“Anyway, Private Tucker, we need to know what happened in that cell,” Kimball spoke in a stern, if not exasperated, voice. Grif sighed and shook his head, giving Wash a look.

“Do you got this? Because I’m supposed to be out there getting Matthews and Bitters to do shit for me,” Grif grumbled. At Washington’s nod, Grif left, sparing Tucker a wave and a smirk.

“Matthews and Bitters?” Tucker asked Wash, who grinned slightly.

“The two soldiers in his squad here. Matthews is basically Simmons and Bitters is basically Grif. You’d love it,” The blond told him warmly, causing Tucker to grin as well before putting on a serious face and turning towards the stranger in the room.

“Okay, so who the hell are you?” He asked bluntly, making Wash cough to hide a chuckle and the newcomer grinned.

“Vanessa Kimball, I’m the leader of this revolution.” She introduced herself.

“Ah, okay. So, what do I need to tell you for the report?”

“Just some simple questions. Who tortured you?” She asked as she sat in a chair at the end of Tucker’s bed and Wash settled in the one beside Tucker.

“Locus. And then Felix,” Tucker frowned deeply and looked disgusted. “Felix got more answers by exploiting my weakness for my team.”

Kimball nodded slowly, “Why did they send us the video?”

“I believe Felix’s words were ‘to make Agent Washington do something stupid’. The deal with the video was that I give them a recording of me freely giving them information and Felix doesn’t kill blondie in his sleep. It was supposed to make Wash angry that he’d been betrayed and put him on a warpath. Instead I got beat and gave Sarge a secret message. Locus decided that seeing me like that would still make Wash angry and sent the video anyway.”

“Why were they using Agent Washington to get to you and you to get to Agent Washington?” Kimball asked, making Wash freeze. Mentally he went over the timing. The video had been shot the day after the ex-Freelancer had told Felix about Tucker...about his feelings. He looked over at Tucker, who looked uncomfortable with the question.

“Based off of conversations with Washington, Felix had concluded that we were close. He figured out Wash’s hatred towards leaving behind his team and decided that he could exploit it.” Tucker shrugged.

“So, you would say that they only got cooperation from you after they threatened the life of Agent Washington?”

“Yes,” Tucker answered with a slight nod.

“Were you aware that your message was understood?”

“After Felix was found out, Locus paid me a visit that was more personal than business. He didn’t really like me,” Tucker made a ‘what can you do’ face before grinning widely. “It was totally worth the look on the bastard’s face. He was completely flummoxed that I had gotten anything passed him.”

Kimball nodded again and gave Tucker a curious glance. “Your chart shows that you should’ve been dead a couple of weeks ago, but healed miraculously. Did they give you emergency treatment?”

“Yes and no.”

“Wanna elaborate on that?”

“I was given emergency treatment, but not by the Feds. Someone slipped an elixir in with my food whenever I was about to die. I got the feeling that Locus wouldn’t sign his name with a smiley face. They called themselves Grey.”

Kimball nodded and stood, giving Tucker a light smile. “We’ll be sure to take all of this into consideration. Thank you for your time. And, get well soon, Captain.”

“Captain?”

She shrugged as she left. “Only seems fair that you’re at the same rank as the rest of your friends.”

Tucker blinked slowly and turned to look at Washington who wore an unreadable expression.

“Uh oh,” Tucker sighed. “That’s your melodramatic thinking face.”

“Tucker, how much did Felix tell you about how I felt about leaving people behind?” Wash asked in a clinically detached tone.

“Not a lot from him. He uh...played me some conversations of yours. After Locus recognized that I was a bit protective of you, they zeroed in.” Tucker shuffled. “He bragged about how close you two were and how he’d be there to comfort you, but he never told me what you said, he made me listen.”

“How much did you hear?”

Tucker sighed and hung his head. “Yes, Washington. I know how you feel about me.”

Wash’s breath hitched in his throat as his instincts told him to run, but his body froze.

“And I’m sorry I hadn’t said anything, but I thought is was all a dream and that you were just going to be gone whenever I woke up and then you literally stayed by me all night and it would’ve been perfect to tell you that I felt the same way but I couldn’t focus and I get that you might not still feel that way because maybe it was just good in theory but I--”  
Wash cut him off by grabbing his hand.

“You’re an idiot,” He spoke in a fond, if not hesitant tone. “We’ll figure it out, but for now you need to rest, okay?”

Tucker nodded before tugging their joined hands closer to his chest, making Wash stand and grab the other side of the bed for balance. Tucker brought up his free hand and placed it at the side of Wash’s neck before surging up and placing a quick peck on Wash’s lips, withdrawing even as the blond started to follow his lips.

“Just wanted to see what that was like,” Tucker whispered as Wash settled, resting their foreheads together.

“How did you like it?” Wash asked, his lips hovering over Tucker’s.

“I’d have to try some more. You know, when I’m not on bedrest.” Tucker smirked at the huff that left Wash as the blond pulled away and sat back down in his chair.

“Get some rest, you goddamn tease.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh I might write up an epilogue if I feel like it BUT NO PROMISES ARE BEING MADE HERE.


End file.
